


All The Small Things

by Madzie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Look at chapters for specific tags, M/M, word prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 21:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8550505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie/pseuds/Madzie
Summary: Pretty boy gives Alec one of those “What can you do,” looks with the craning of his brows, and shrugging to his unfairly broad shoulders—And Alec wonders how chiseled they must be beneath the sports jacket, and how it’d taste to run his tongue all against that smooth, bronze skin—Wait no—no. Alec is not allowed to think that while on a mission. 
 
Writing Challenge based off of a list of 50 words I found on tumblr.





	1. Thousand

A hundred lifetimes Alec Lightwood has lived, a thousand years he has roamed the earth. Sometimes he is merely a boy who keeps his smarts about him, a scholar who had lived a peaceful, normal life, one where his name never made it into the history books, but he was happy. A few occasions Alec was the greatest warrior of a cavalry that desperately needed a leader as decisive and quick witted as him. And once Alec was the glorious King of a Empire that had scorched it’s mark into the fickle memory of mankind for the millennia to come. But with each shape and form he has taken, there had always been one constant—A pair of soft brown eyes that illuminated with gold in the sunlight, and the mellifluous laughter that had always caused a splendid ringing to his ears. Their names may not had always been Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane, but In every lifetime that providence had carved out for them they were always two boys whom caught themselves in a love that shook them to their very core. 

 

Once Magnus was the son of a diplomat and Alec—A dashing young noblemen—was instructed to be is escort for the year. Those late night assignations composed of frantic kisses, and daftly stringing together dreams of the lives they could live once they escape this place and live as common subjects, were the only glimpses of time that they were really, truly happy. But when the sun arose on the morning of his voyage back home, Magnus shook his hand with little too no emotion, just as he should. And for his part, Alec wished him a safe travel, and a blessing by the gods. Because they were only two spoiled boys who hadn’t the slightest clue of life outside their circle of elites could entail…Even if it promised a elation never even imagined.

 

Another, Alec is a professor at the esteemed Oxford university, and Magnus his colleague. Alec had been betrothed and wedded to the eldest daughter of a family whom’s good graces proved invaluable for his father’s shipping docs. Though no matter how fond the dark haired man had grown to the petite blonde, and how immeasurably he had loved and adored his two children, the now 40 year old man could not help but selfishly spend his lunch hours tucked away in a minuscule alcove specked with various types of flora and all sorts of harmless animals, with the man whom proclaims to only where tweed jackets because, “One day all the smartest men will be wearing this material old man, and I intend on being the first among them.” Sometimes they shamelessly act as rumormongers and discuss the social lives of their coworkers, and others they talk on end about everything and nothing at all—But truly bathed in his resplendent presence proved enough to quench his insatiable curiosity of this man’s storied life. It never goes past that though—Once they had accidentally brushed hands—Sending bolts of electricity to course down their spines—But never anything more…Because Alec had a family, and Magnus had a reputation, and the world was yet so extremely closed minded, that the sight of two men embracing out of love would cause riots on the streets.

 

So as they do every time, they eventually part ways—Partially because it proves just far to difficult to be within the other’s presence without acting on the primal instincts clawing through them, and partially because they knew it was never meant to last.  
They’re forever yet lied in some other point in the space-time continuum and when their souls finally experience it, they know they will finally be put at rest.

 

***

 

Well done,” Alec commends—Smirking only ever so slightly at the Warlock’s response of, “More like medium rare.”

 

When he turns to face Alec, their eyes catch—-And it’s as if the Shadowhunters crumbling world has just been demolished by this man, and the incandescent gleam to his captivating gaze, all at once.

 

Alec doesn’t look away until the man introduces himself in a voice that actually dances over him, and hugs around his entirety. a splendid staccato that quite literally threatens to make Alec lose himself within it’s every cadence and lilt.  
And by the damn Angel, , Alec had never before thought a voice could be attractive. (He had never allowed himself to think so.) especially a voice belonging to another man—Especially if that aforementioned man is a Warlock, (Of all beings.) A Warlock with a rather mesmerizing affinity for all things sparkling and sumptuous.

 

But he does.

 

Alec is quite certain that he replies to the all to beguiling man with his own name…But then there eyes meet again.

 

Their gazes bore into each other, and speak of promises made lifetimes ago. Shadows pan across Magnus’s soft brown pools, retelling nights spent hidden out in the corner of a iridescent rose garden, and peppered kisses exchanged at the break of dawn, right when mornings cruel light kissed the escape of darkness. , They had always missed the Moon’s crestfallen crescendo of tragedy and an aching yet unresolved. As the pair would spit at the shimmering starlight from above, swearing that Kismet had nothing to do with it, and one day they will pave their own incandescent path to lead them to the bliss they both yearn for. All the wile clinging onto one another as if they’re very essence depended on it—And perhaps it did. 

And as they gaze at one another, they think that perhaps they’ve found their forever.


	2. Gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of family fluff after the angst :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading<3 And let me know what you think :)

Remnants of the shimmering rays of the setting sun casts atop the gleaming golden and mandarin leaves which blankets the entirety of the cozy Yorkshire lake house, making the ground appear as if it is ablaze in a righteous glory.

“Kakek,” a girl with shimmering caramel pools, and long, cascading chestnut locks, bounds towards Magnus, a lovely laughter spilling from her lips.

“Yes my beautiful biscuit?” The grandfather chuckles with a mirthful glint sparkling in his loving gaze as he kneels down to her level.

“Quick! Quick!” She exclaims. “Grandpa is coming!”

But before the tiny girl could explain any more, Magnus’s husband for nearly four decades sneaks towards them, snatching her up into his strong embrace. 

“I got you, ya little monster!” Alec spins around with Amelia, as a furious cackle roars from her. “Now give it up.”

“No!” Amelia shouts back, her pixilated grin growing all the more.

“Huh,” Alec sighs satirically. “Well you asked for it little girl.” And before she can brace herself, Alec’s long fingers are on her sides, tickling her until submission.

“Fine! Fine!” The girl chuckles out between breaths. “You can have it!”

Magnus watches amusedly as Amelia offers up a small velvet box to Alec, and races off to find her baby brother.

“What’s that?” Magnus cranes one of his brows towards his husband, watching as a soft blush touches the tops of his prominent cheek bones.

“Nothing you need to know about,” Alec teases with a tapping to his husband’s nose.

“Don’t tell me, you’ve found another and are proposing to him!” Magnus exclaims sardonically, putting a hand on his forehead for emphasis.

“Now how’d you guess?” Alec teases with a smirk, and Magnus can suddenly understand where their granddaughter got her mischievous streak from.

“Well I suppose that we’ve had a good run,” Magnus hums as Alec snakes his arms around him. “You can have the children, as long as I get the grandkids and the loft. I give all my best to you and the new mystery man.”

“You’re far too much, do you know that?” Alec mutters as he presses gentle kisses along Magnus’s jawline.

“Well I’m not the one leaving my husband for a younger man,” Magnus contends as he fondly cards a hand through the gray streak blazing through his husband’s ebony locks, (Only adding to Alec’s handsome disposition if anyone were to ask for Magnus’s opinion.) “Unless of course that is part of a 40th anniversary gift that you continue to insist upon keeping hush hush.”

As he pulls away, Alec attempts to school his face from disclosing the truth of the matter—But of course Magnus can see right through his husband’s efforts.

“Well you’l never know until you meet Raul, now will you.” Magnus smacks the side of his arm in amusement. “Come on,” Alec takes grasp of his hand—An action which yet causes a legion of butterflies to swarm deep in Magnus’s gut— “Max just called, he’s almost here and the turkey is finally out of the oven.” 

“Lead the way my love,” Magnus presses a quick kiss to Alec’s lips, feeling more than a bit smug at how flustered he can still make him.

As the pair retreat back into their spacious lake house, Magnus thinks that once upon a time he had never once imagined experiencing a joy as raw as this. Never in his years of life before meeting his one and only did Magnus Bane imagine he could have mornings of swift pecks promising something more later on, burnt toast and children’s chatter fogging the air. Or afternoons of strolling down an open street, where whether they were experiencing all the delights of Paris, or the wickedly beautiful architecture of ancient lands, Magnus’s attention would always be encapsulated by the enrapturing aura of one Alec Lightwood. 

Nor did Magnus ever dream of nights spent getting drunk off fervent whispers of always and forever, and singing to the twinkling starlights of above while the drenching moonlight pours over their bodies pressed so close, just dancing together and fully appreciating the idea of soulmates and a boundless love.

But here he is.

Hand in hand with the great love of his life, spending their holidays with their three children, and all their grandchildren and all their friends and Alec’s siblings.

Magnus’s life was so full of love and joy, that he is shocked that he hasn’t burst quite yet.


	3. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus’s stomach drops at the proclamation, and the consequences it entails, he scorching his boyfriend of only two weeks with a desperate sort of glare, one pleading for him to comprehend what precisely he intends on embarking upon. “Alexander please, think about what you are agreeing to do.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry for my not posting for like the last whatever amount of weeks
> 
> Honestly finals just kicked my ass and a lot of drama just all around...But now I have time to breathe and I am going to force myself to actually practice writing and posting at the very least 1 chapter a day.
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me, and I really hope you guys enjoy it
> 
> My previous predictions that I kind of just sprawled out real quick after the first Malec trailer we got, so yes a couple lines are directly form that XD <3  
> Pleaseeeee let me know what you thought!!  
> Comments give me lifeeee!!!<3<3<3

The ghostly light emanates from the opaque outlook of New York’s revered skyline, one which only a penthouse as luxurious as the one owned by the infamous Camille Belcourt, could display.

The aforementioned beauty is splayed leisurely on one of her loves eats, the glow softly tracing over her slim physique—A nasty smirk curling over her timeless face all the while. And if Magnus lacked even an ounce of the self control that he is resolved in containing, he swears that his hands would be wrapped around her pathetic neck until she dies all over again.

“It’s the only way I could think of my darling, don’t look at me like that, you know how it brings you wrinkles.” She coos in a sickeningly sweet tone, a voice which resembles the one she had used on Magnus over a century prior right before she would stroke his face, compelling him to give into whatever sick little request she was begging of him to partake in with her.

the high warlock parts his lips—Whether to reject her idea, or bombard her with an onslaught of expletives, Magnus does not know—However he does not have the chance to find out, as Alec answers resolutely with his decision.

“fine.”

Stunned, Magnus turns to his boyfriend, he air seeping from his lungs. “What are you talking about.”

“I have to do it,” Alec all but declares in a voice quite painstakingly lacking from the resounding strength that he had once held when doling out one of the various instructions that is expected of the head of one of the most esteemed Institutes within the jurisdiction of the Shadow-realm…Though cut in the very same certainty in what is found in all that he believes in.

Magnus’s stomach drops at the proclamation, and the consequences it entails, he scorching his boyfriend of only two weeks with a desperate sort of glare, one pleading for him to comprehend what precisely he intends on embarking upon. “Alexander please, think about what you are agreeing to do.“

Alec’s foggy gaze—One veiled with layers upon layers of apprehension and despair and a self granted responsibility of protecting the lives of his loved ones at all cost—Lazily glosses to where Magnus stands, focussing upon his figure as if he was unsure if the Warlock was truly standing their, or whether he proved to be some sort of hallucination—The evidently unhealthy state of the young shadowhunter causing Magnus’s chest to ache all the more.

Alec’s distress and constant worry was a tangible thing found in the innate anguish strung through his posture—A posture of a warrior prepared to fight at a moment’s call—And the wickedly dark circles contrasting against the all too pale skin of his sunken cheeks. The picture of desolation only appearing all the more severe by the cruelly gentle luster of the full moon caressing his sharp features so he is nothing more than alabaster and shadows.

And as he seems to be continuing to deteriorate before Magnus’s very eyes, the Warlock desperately questions the precise moment he had allowed this warrior of the heavens to be so utterly essential for his life on earth.

“i need to find my brother, there’s no other choice”

“There are plenty of other choices,” Magnus contends with more than a bit fury shining through his tone. “You can come back to the institute with me and—“

“And what Magnus!” Alec shouts back. “Have Aldertree make a lesson out of me and have me under constant watch while they go and HUNT down my Parabatai!. No, I can’t.”

“Fine, then we can go back to my loft, we can try another tracking spell…Just not this—Anything but this.” Magnus reasons in a nearly pleading tone.

“Ah lovers quarrels are always the most enticing to watch.” Camille comments in a mildly intrigued tone, her fluttering gaze melting over her previous lover all the while. “Magnus dearest do you recollect our little spat in Prague, right before we made love infant of that—“ 

“Shut it,” the couple rebuke in unison, and return to ignoring her presence all together.

“Look Magnus, Jace is gone. I know he’s in trouble…I can feel it through the little connection we have left,” at that, a terrible sort of despair shone in Alec’s elaborate eyes. Something pitiful and desperate and excruciatingly painful. Something Magnus would give all he has to see him be rid of. “and I thought that there’s not a goddamn thing i can do about it…But now I can”

“It will kill you,” Magnus admonishes forcefully, speaking the words in a purposeful drawl so that the ebony haired man could read the contortion of his lips.

“Not if a skilled warlock like you administers the enchantment,” Alec corrects, obviously not stepping down from his position. Though neither does Magnus intend to.

“Alexander…i would do anything for you, but i won’t risk your life…I can’t even take the risk of your dying by my hands.” The immortal shutters at the thought and long ago memories best locked away in the prevailing forgetfulness of time.

“Please,” Alec beseeches one last time with all he has, the sickly form of his frame wracked with worry, showing all the more in his current state.

Magnus shakes his head resolutely, not even trusting his own powers to do something that the one person that Magnus would give everything for truly and painfully wants. “She’s manipulating your compassion for Jace Alexander, she knows just how dangerous this is…Let us just take a moment to step back and figure out—“

“No!” Alec snatches his wrist away from where Magnus had gently grasped it. “I’m going to do this with or without you.” 

He begins to stomp out of the penthouse in a cloud of rage and frustration, headed to Angel knows where. Stopping in his tracks only when Magnus calls for his name.

“What do you want from me!” The second he explodes, Magnus could see the regret painted across his features…But the damage had been done, and Magnus would not stand for being yelled at so nonsensically.

“At the moment—Nothing.” And with that, Magnus gives a snap of his powerful fingers, and disappears in a cloud of azure myst, expecting Alexander’s apology before the end of the night.


	4. Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was all effortless motion—From the tips of his fingers to the target of his aim—Magnus Bane could eliminate any pest with a graceful thrash of the arm or pounding of the fist.. (Ever depicting the easy swagger innate in his every step.)

It was all effortless motion—From the tips of his fingers to the target of his aim—Magnus Bane could eliminate any pest with a graceful thrash of the arm or pounding of the fist.. (Ever depicting the easy swagger innate in his every step.)

Alec finds himself transfixed by his boyfriend’s rhythmic technique.

As a shadowhunter immersed into the Clave’s strict training regiment of finding one’s weapon of choice, and mastering it until their remains no other to rival you—Alec had never been permitted to indulge himself in the readings or practices of opposing techniques cultivated by Mundanes.

Though Alec is a Lightwood after all, “We break noses and accept the consequences.” 

Perhaps his early signs of divergence from the restrictive shadowhunter laws were not as evident or life threatening as Jace sneaking out in the middle of the night—Dragging a cross Alec with him—To take part in the debauchery of New York’s club culture, or Izzy’s proclivity of insisting that she could master a whole myriad of weapons without the teachings of Hodge or anyone else beforehand—Which once resulted in a pair of scorched off eyebrows and a surly Jace for two whole weeks until Izzy taught him how to draw a nicely realistic pair in lieu.

No not quite so blatant, but Alec’s insubordinate streak yet rang strong and he had amused himself in researching the ancient fighting techniques of Japan’s Ninjutsu, or Brazil’s vale Tudo despite any condemnation by his instructors. 

Alec had always been partial to the combative procedures that one could confuse for some sort of elaborate dance until your opponent conducts the fatal hit. So far away from the methodical seminars that all Nephilim youth are forced to attend and master prior to being bestowed their runes. Watching the prosodic manner in which they fought reminded Alec of a time long passed. Back when his mother would wrap he and Izzy into her arms as she taught their nimble hands the keys to their most beloved lullaby that she had sung to them whenever Alec or Izzy were injured—just as her parents had when she was a girl herself—A Spanish tale about a man who had bravely fought against a legion of windmills. 

to this day Alec believes the narrative to be absurd, and Don Quixote to being an idiot. Though whenever he would explain his irritation of the story, his mother would only cluck her tongue, explaining that it’s the man’s bravery that should be commended over his possible ignorance while carding a hand through his hair.

Sometimes Alec thinks he misses how his mother would fondly caress his cheek and correct whatever maneuver he was in the midst of preforming—Back before the god forsaken war he has found himself in the crossfires of, and back before she was forced to accept Alec for his whole truth.

Back when she would occasionally show a sign that he made her proud.

And it hurts all over again because he doesn't deserve this.

 

*~*

 

“I may be a bit bias, but I do believe that you put even the most praised greek statues to shame.”

“Magnus.”

Alec swears it’s like a fucking advert the way Magnus saunters into the room—Fists plunged deep into his sweats, and the light obstructed from the blinds bathing him in a golden warmth.

“Don’t stop on account of me, you do know how entirely I adore your little training sessions,” his lips only grazes over Alec’s, his wolfish smirk never faltering for even a beat. (The bastard.)

“I thought you had that thing with Raphael.”

“Is it so hard that I would rather spend my time with my boyfriend?” He challenges while palming the front of Alec’s pants—And as if he were a sexually frustrated teenager again, Alec melts into the small touch.

Before their heated snogging could meld into anything anymore ardent, Magnus pulls away teasingly. And Alec knows just how feral he must look.

“I wanted to see if maybe I could help you with your workout routine?” He tries hiding his shit eating grin by biting down on his bottom lip in what must be his version of being sheepish. (Alec is about 99.99% sure that Magnus Bane has never felt a ounce of shame in his life for anything.)

“I’m sure there are plenty of better ways for us to workout together,” Alec scoffs crossly, trying to hide his pleasure of Magnus’s reluctant chuckle. Alec still finds it dizzying that Magnus fucking Bane had decided to give him the time of day, and sometimes, when Alec inadvertently makes Magnus laugh or catches him smiling at him in that befuddled sort of way when he thinks Alec’s attention is elsewhere, (When is his attention never on Magnus,) Alec thinks could be half as delighted as he is whenever in Magnus’s company.

“Come now Shadowhunter, I don’t bite~Unless you would prefer that of course~”

“Never pass up an opportunity for an innuendo do you?”

“Nope,” he pops, stretching his unfairly sculpted arms as he pads off to the other side of the grandiose room. “I promise not to use any magic.”

“Fine,” Alec huffs as he strips off his shirt. “But winner gets blown.”

“I’d have it no other way.”

They cautiously circle each other, feigning attacks to see how the opposing man would react. But in reality they’re just eye fucking each other’s half naked form. Alec and Magnus have partaken in a plentiful of physical activities that they’ve memorized the other’s breathing pattern by this point. (Alec thinks it’s a true art.)

Soon enough they catch one another’s gaze and commence what was suppose to be the reason behind this meat show.

It’s exhilarating.

Sparring with Magnus is everything.

It’s something profound and frivolous and something utterly consuming.

It’s not like how when battling with Jace Alec could immediately discern his next flick of the wrist by his breathing pattern alone, or how with Izzy his brute strength is met by her’s with an equal veracity. (And besides Izzy has always been better at hand to hand combat.)

No, Magnus is something so intrinsically extraordinary that he is incomparable to anything Alec had ever known. And he should really stop being so shocked with each revelation he has of the magnificent warlock.

Magnus Fights the way he speaks, with all his body.. 

There really is no particular rhyme or rhythm to how he decides to attack, only an appraising eye Alec can practically feel squirming up his form with it’s icy stare, and a quick wit to determine how to proceed. He’s a whirlwind of kinetic energy that never seems to slow down.

And Alec thinks it’s so totally unfair how a simple pirouette to deflect his advances, or kick to knock him off his feet can have Alec so totally dazed in adoration and wonderment of just how such a beautiful being can even consider him worthy.

“So,” the pair are both gleaming with a layer of their own sweat, but Alec can’t say he’s not turned on by the whole ordeal. And if his chest clenches in reaction to how the rays of sun dancing in Magnus’s eyes make them an enticing shade of molten—Well that could be kept to himself.

“Clarissa tells me that the Clave has commanded for all their best warriors to take refuge to Idris.” Magnus dodges a fist that Alec had been aiming for his left rib, and counters by tackling him into the main wall. Alec easily ricochets off and summersaults back into action.

“And you wanted to see why I haven’t told you yet?” With a craned brow, Alec moves to push him onto the matts. But Magnus was to quick, grabbing his arm and flipping him so that he is neatly situated beneath the centuries old warlock.

“No doofus, I came here to ask why you weren’t,” Magnus gently pushes back a lock of Alec’s hair, their bodies pressed so close that their warm breaths begin to intermingle. A beat passes, and Magnus rules off of him so that they are laying side to side—Hands interlaced all the while.

“H-How did you know I didn’t intend to go?” Alec eventually asks with labored breaths.

“I’d like to think I’ve come to know you in the past few months,” Magnus snarks. “And I also happen to know that you haven’t had a substantive conversation with your mother since that farce of a wedding.”

Alec winces at the pinpoint accuracy.

“Why do you even want me to go? Are you that bored of me?”

The accusation is half hearted at best, and they both knew it. Alec just needed more time to think of a plausible response for his refusing to face his own mother’s calculating stare.

“In truth I have become a bit blasé over your pitiful evasion skills.”

Alec reddens.

“Alexander,” Magnus moves so that he is sitting up besides him and clamps a hand over his broad shoulder. “She’s your mother.”

“She hates you.”

“And I her, but that doesn’t change a thing. She loves you.”

Alec shutters as he thinks back to their last conversation before she and his father had been carted back to Alicante with Max.

“I could handle your breaking the rules, and even mouthing off to me—But kissing that mongrel before the most respected members of our circle—You’ve tarnished our name so cavalierly. You are no son of mine.” 

And as if reading his thoughts, Alec feels Magnus’s reassuring embrace.

“I can’t imagine living under the same roof as her.”

“From my recollections the Lightwood manner is one of the largest within all of Idirs, I’m sure you’ll have ample opportunities to avoid her if you wish—You know until you feel ready to discuss what has been eating you up for the past six months.”

“Wait—You’ve been to our house in Idris?” Alec marvels. “Man please don’t tell me you use to date one of my ancestors! Please not my great grandpa Alexander—That’d really fuck up my mind when your screaming my name while we’re making love.”

“Making love?” Magnus peals out in laughter, his nose wrinkling all the while.

“What?” Alec grouses defensively.

“Øh nothing Love, it’s just sometimes I think you’re the immortal in this relationship.”

“Shut it old man,” Alec shoves him aside so that they are rolling around the floor, lost in a haze of ebullience. 

“Say uncle,” Alec preens down at a pinned down Magnus, suddenly feeling the urge to suck on that soft point on his neck until the skin becomes raw, and he’s made it so Magnus is panting all over again.

“Hmm, well now that you mention an Uncle Lightwood…”

Alec punches him in the chest, hard.

“Ouch, we really must work on massaging that humor bone of yours Alexander, even though I would much rather spend my time stroking another part of your anatomy.”

“You’re shameless.”

“And yet you love me…I do believe that speaks much more to your character than my own Alexander.”

Alec shuts him up with an amorous kiss.

“seduction will get you nowhere, I intend on having this conversation eventually.”

“Why?” Alec moans while nipping at his jawline.

“Because it kills me how much it bothers you,” Magnus eventually admits in a voice stripped entirely from it’s ordinary bravado or vitriol. And Alec’s heart lurches at the sincerity and imposing truth of just how much Magnus actually cares for him. He balances himself onto his forearms so that he is looking straight into Magnus’s warm pools.

“I love you, so god damn much.”

Obviously caught in surprise, Magnus soon realizes what Alec had proclaimed and with a fond grin he cups Alec’s cheek. “I love you too.”

“Then believe me when I tell you that my mother was probably the smallest reason why I gave Aldertree my request to stay on the mandatory emergency staff staying behind. My mother has never really accepted me, that day when I showed everyone in that room just how god damn much I love you was just an excuse for her to cement her disappointment—And honestly I don’t care about any of it anymore. Not the Clave’s laws or my family’s honor or anything else that I was raised in believing was the end all be all.”

“then why?”

“Yu and my siblings are my greatest priority—Izzy and Jace will be safe in Idris.”

“But you think I’m a damsel in need of rescuing?” Magnus chuckles sardonically.

“More like I can’t imagine not seeing you everyday.”

That seems to be the right response because Magnus goes back to kissing him thoroughly breathless, and Alec knows he meant every word.

Because he doesn’t deserve his mother’s cruel apathy, but he has long accepted it. And is proud of himself enough for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this spiraled into something all it's own...IDK where my mind goes tbh


End file.
